The Man Who Would Not Scold
Mr. Lin invited him to come in and sit down. He was a plain-spoken, honest kind of man, this Lin. Everybody liked him, for he never spoke ill of any man and he always had something good to say of his neighbours.
"Well, what's your business, friend Wang? You have come out bright and early, and it's a long walk from your place to mine."
"Oh, I had something important I wanted to talk to you about," began Wang slyly. "That's a fine flock of ducks you have over in the meadow."
"Yes," said Mr. Lin smiling, "a fine flock indeed." But he said nothing of the stolen fowl.
"How many have you?" questioned Wang more boldly.
"I counted them yesterday morning and there were fifteen."
"But did you count them again last night?"
"Yes, I did," answered Lin slowly.
"And there were only fourteen then?"
"Quite right, friend Wang, one of them was missing; but one duck is of little importance. Why do you speak of it?"
"What, no importance! losing a duck? How can you say so? A duck's a duck, isn't it, and surely you would like to know how you lost it?"
"A hawk most likely."
"No, it wasn't a hawk, but if you would go and look in old Sen's duck yard, you would likely find feathers."
"Nothing more natural, I am sure, in a duck yard."
"Yes, but your duck's feathers," persisted Wang.
"What! you think old Sen is a thief, do you, and that he has been stealing from me?"
"Exactly! you have it now."
"Well, well, that is too bad! I am sorry the old fellow is having such a hard time. He is a good worker and deserves better luck. I should willingly have given him the duck if he had only asked for it. Too bad that he had to steal it."
Wang waited to see how Mr. Lin planned to punish the thief, feeling sure that the least he could do, would be to go and give him a good scolding.
But nothing of the kind happened. Instead of growing angry, Mr. Lin seemed to be sorry for Sen, sorry that he was poor, sorry that he was willing to steal.
"Aren't you even going to give him a scolding?" asked Wang in disgust.